Talking to You, Blaming You
by SVUFanatic611
Summary: Sequel to Setting My Sights. I was a little girl, stripped of all her misguided opinions and left knowing only the Godawful truth.” Kathleen has a hearttoheart with each of her parents.


Title: Talking to You, Blaming You

Author: SVUFanatic611

Rating: PG-13, for some language and one use of the "f" word

Summary: "I looked down at my trembling hands. It was like what I had felt on the roof all over again. I was a little girl, stripped of all her misguided opinions and left knowing only the God-awful truth." Kathleen has a heart-to-heart with each of her parents and realizes that this personal obstacle isn't as clear-cut as she thought.

Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine. And I don't own anything related to the movie "Mean Girls" or the line I used from it.

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_Kathleen Stabler's POV_

I arrived at the building's doors not long after I had set out. Before I went in, my cell rang. It was Liz, telling me that Mom found out I was gone. She was out now, looking for me. I thanked her for the heads up. I knew my mom would check the station first, but I decided to see my dad anyway. I didn't come this far to just turn around because of my mom. She couldn't stop me anymore.

I walked up the stairs and made my way inside. I found the bullpen and walked in on a scarcely populated work place. I saw my dad's partner working at her desk, focusing her eyes on what I took to be a case file. I saw a few other officers and people walking around, but it wasn't that busy. I looked through the glass door in the back and saw Cragen sitting at his desk. I didn't have too much time to dwell on my surroundings. I heard Olivia noticing my presence.

"Kathleen?" It was a question. I hadn't seen her in almost three years, but my dad had photos of me on his desk. I was too old to be Liz and Maureen and I didn't look a thing alike.

"Hi, Olivia."

"What are you doing here?" she asked politely. I detected worry in her voice. Girls came to this place for a reason. I could tell she was hoping that I hadn't come for that specific reason.

"I…um…I wanted to see…Is my dad here?" I said, stumbling on my words.

"Yeah…he is. Kathleen, is everything okay?" she asked with more worry shining through in her speech.

I didn't know if Olivia knew about what was going on. I understood that she and my dad were more than partners, they were best friends. They could tell each other everything. But that didn't mean that they did. Not all best friends shared everything one hundred percent of the time. At least, that's how it was with me. If my dad hadn't told Olivia, I wasn't going to. So, I did my best answering.

"Yeah…well, kinda. I just really wanna talk to my dad. I've had a bad day."

That was the understatement of the century.

She looked at me with such confusion and worry, but I didn't give in. I came here to see Dad, not explain my crappy-ass life to his partner.

"Okay. He should be…"

"Kathleen? What are you doing here?"

It was my dad who cut her off. I took one look at him and he looked so different – so stressed, so beat, so worn-down, so worried, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Hi Daddy," I said casually. Never let 'em see you sweat.

"Hi," he said a little shocked. "Again, I ask, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you." I sounded five-years-old again; like I've plastered my 'oh-so-innocent' face on and hoping my daddy won't get mad at me for whatever I did wrong.

My dad was shocked and what I took to be paralyzed. He had always kept home and work separate and now that home had touched work, he didn't know what to do.

"Is everything okay?" he asked worriedly, just like Olivia had done. He had just then realized that I could've been there for an upsetting reason.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just…I wanted to see you and talk to you," I said. I could hear the fatigue and neediness in my voice and I knew my dad could, too.

He looked at me and gazed into my eyes. His body that was tensed just moments ago began to relax as he looked at me. "Do you want to do it here, or go up to the roof?" He smiled as he said it. As much as my mom didn't want to admit it, my dad knew when to be a detective and when to be a father. But, I guess he didn't want to make the transition and be both in the same place. He wanted to be a father at home and a detective at the precinct.

I focused back on his question. I hadn't really thought out what I wanted to say to him, so I didn't know if I'd be comfortable saying whatever came out in front of Olivia or not. Don't get me wrong, I knew Olivia wouldn't judge me or anything, but I became self-conscious sometimes and, plus, she didn't need to hear about teenage drama and my twisted, crappy life.

"Let's go to the roof," I said simply. I was hoping Olivia wasn't doing to feel offended. I looked over after the words left my mouth and I saw that she was already back at work.

"Alright," he started. He began to move toward the steps when he turned around and looked up and down at me.

"What?"

"Sweetheart, where's your jacket?"

"I didn't bring one," I said.

He walked past me and headed back to the doorframe of the bullpen. I followed him, not knowing what the hell he was doing. I caught up with him just in time.

"Liv, can Kathleen use your jacket for just a minute?"

"Yeah, of course she can."

"Da-ad! I'm fine. I don't need a jacket."

"What are you, five? Just listen to me and put on a jacket. Olivia doesn't mind, do you Olivia?"

Olivia turned in her chair and smiled at me. "Not at all."

I smiled at her and I realized that it was the first time I had done that in about a week. "Thanks," I replied as I took the leather jacket from my father's grasp. I put it on as my father once again led me to the stairway and up the steps.

We got to the top and stepped out onto the roof. It was windy and a little bit chilly. I silently thanked my dad for the jacket.

"So, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, leaning over the ledge.

"I don't know. I think it was more _seeing_ you than talking to you." I kept my eyes down and didn't look at him.

"Okay, what is it that you needed to _see_ me about?" he said, smiling.

I mirrored his smile and looked up at him. "I wanted to see that you were okay. I haven't actually seen you in almost a week. I thought a visit was in order."

He looked sad when I mentioned the week that he had gone without seeing his children, but he answered. "I'm okay, really, Kathleen."

"You don't look okay."

"I miss you guys. I miss you guys with all my heart. It hurts walking home to that empty house knowing that I won't be telling Liz and Dickie to calm down and for you to take the soccer ball outside. I won't deny that. But, sweetheart, maybe this is for the best."

His last sentence hit me like a ton of bricks. How could he possibly think that? "No, Dad, it's not for the best. Coming to a house everyday that isn't my home and not seeing you is _not_ for the best, Dad!" I said, louder than my normal voice. While saying it, I had reached for his arm and turned his body parallel toward mine. I wanted to make sure he knew that I was serious.

"Mom took us away from you and then won't even let us see you! That's not for the best, Dad. It's not fair. I didn't do anything wrong and now I'm being punished."

He placed a hand on my cheek and gazed into my eyes. "I know. You're right, it's not fair. It's not fair to you or your siblings. But, don't blame your mother. If anyone, blame me."

I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. Was he lucid? Was he tired? Was he serious? "How can you say that, Dad? This isn't your fault."

"Yes, it is, Kathleen. I shut your mother out. I never talked to her. I took her for granted. Then I became hard to live with. Your mother did what she had to do, Kathleen. Your mother did what she thought was right. She finally realized that she wasn't getting the attention deserved. I don't blame her, Kathleen…and neither should you."

"She could've talked to you, Dad. She didn't have to pack us all up and leave." I kept trying to make excuses for my dad, just like what my grandmother was doing for my mom.

"Don't you think she tried that, sweetheart? She tried to talk to me. She tried to work things out. But I didn't listen. She did what she did as a last resort."

I gazed into my dad's eyes, not knowing what to say. It seemed that I had run out of excuses for him and I was left, knowing the awful truth. I felt the tears burning in my eyes, wanting so bad to fall, but I didn't know what to do. My dad saw my glassy eyes and bent down on one knee in front of me.

"I know, knowing the truth doesn't make this any easier. In fact, it actually makes it harder. But I want you to think of your mom right now. Imagine how hard this has got to be on her right now."

"I…I…Da…" I stammered. I was left speechless and avoided my dad's intense look. I pulled the jacket around me tighter and, while the wind caught it, I could smell and almost taste the perfume of lavender flowers on Olivia's jacket.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry you got in the middle of this. I didn't mean for everything to get out of hand."

I ignored my dad's apology. He didn't need to be contrite for anything. At least, that's how I felt. My mind just seemed to complete the thought I had tried to put into words before.

"I…I…I don't blame you, Dad. I…I…can't," I whispered.

"Why not? What is it about me that gets in the way of you blaming me?"

"You! It's you. You're my dad."

"She's your mom."

"She's not my hero, Dad. You are. You're Superman."

My dad pondered what I had said and he looked blank in response. He was still kneeling in front of me, his hands holding firmly onto mine.

"No, I'm not Kathleen. I'm just another human being who screwed up the best he had going for him. I'm not Superman. If anyone is Superman, it's your mother. She had to deal with so much for so long. Don't you realize that, Kathleen?"

I still couldn't believe what he was saying. There I was, trying to defend him, offering up every reason why he was so great and he was there, knocking every single one of them down. Not only that, he was knocking every reason for me to be mad at Mom down and offering every reason to love her and forgive her. It didn't make sense whatsoever. Maybe the Catholic guilt thing had gotten to him.

"You are, Dad! You're great. Don't _you_ realize that?"

My dad sighed. I was always so stubborn. Then, of all the times, I wasn't going to budge.

"I could've done better," he said, exhaling again.

"Couldn't we all?"

"I guess you're right. But I could've done a lot better. I could've done a whole lot of things differently."

"Dad, you said that if I was going to blame anyone, it was going to be you. Daddy, maybe it's time that you stop blaming yourself."

I was never one to be profound, so I shocked my dad when I said it. He looked up at me and placed his hand on my cheek again. "I will…only if you stop blaming your mom."

I looked at him intensely. He probably wouldn't stop blaming himself for awhile, but I appreciated his attempts to reconcile everything between me and Mom.

"Deal," I said. I never felt it coming, but a tear slid down my cheek and landed on Olivia's jacket.

My dad stood up swiftly and took me into a hug. I held on to him, gripping his suit jacket. I let the tears run freely. They landed on Dad's shoulder and drenched the tiny fibers in his jacket. He began to stroke my hair and gently rubbed my back.

He pulled me away from him and, as he looked intently at me, he wiped the tears on my face. "Kiddo, does Mom know you're here?" he asked sweetly.

Shit. Now I was going to get it.

"I…Well…No."

He looked sharply at me. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"Well…I…um, snuck out of the house and ran…she kinda chased after me. She's out looking for me, but if she knows me as well as I think she does, she'll be here in a few minutes."

My dad sighed. If he was upset that I had snuck out, he didn't show it. Maybe he could understand why I had done it.

"Well, let's get you inside, warmed up and washed up and while you do that, I'll call your mom."

"Dad! No, please, I don't want to go back with her."

"What did we just talk about Kathleen? It's obvious you two need to work some stuff out, so yes, I'm going to be calling her."

"Alright," I answered reluctantly.

He walked next to me, placed his hand on my lower back and led me to the bullpen. We got to the entranceway and I placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. I had to keep my word to Liz.

"Daddy…uh, Liz wanted me to tell you that she loves you and that she misses you," I said. I knew it broke his heart, but it had to be said. I told Liz I would.

"You tell her that I said I love her and there's not enough room in the universe to fill the love I have for my children."

I nodded. There was another thing I wanted to ask him.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Will you come to my soccer game tomorrow?"

He got lost in thought for a moment. "Sweetie, I don't know. I really want to, but I don't know if I can get away long enough."

At least he was honest. I guess I was thankful for that, but I really wanted him there. "Please, Daddy? It's the championship game. I really want you there."

He looked down at the floor. "I don't know…"

"Dad, if you don't want to come alone, you can invite Olivia."

He looked up. I knew that was the reason. "You wouldn't mind?" I could tell that my dad had finally realized that I was mature and understood more than he thought I did. It felt good knowing that my dad could finally be completely honest with me.

"Of course not. As long as she doesn't cheer for the other team, why would I mind?"

He smiled. "Olivia?" he asked from the doorway. She looked up at the sound of her name. "You up for a soccer game tomorrow at…?" He looked at me, wanting me to complete the sentence.

"Six-thirty at McKay Fields."

She looked at my dad before glancing at me to answer. "Um…yeah. That would be fun."

At this point, Cragen came out of his office. "Hey Cragen! You don't mind if Olivia and I take off tomorrow night around six, do you? We've got a soccer game to go to."

I looked at Cragen hopefully. "Um…no, I don't mind. I don't know if I can say no to that face," he said, looking and smiling at me.

"Thanks, Cap," he said.

"Elliot…" came a voice from behind us. My dad and I turned around and found my mom standing there.

"Kathy…I was just about to call you," he said.

My mom didn't respond. "Come on, Kathleen. Let's go," she said to me.

I reluctantly agreed, turned around and gave my dad a hug and squeezed him tight. "I'll see you tomorrow," I whispered.

"This time, I promise, I won't miss it for the world," he said, looking straight into my eyes. I smiled and looked at Olivia. I took off the jacket and handed it to her.

"Thanks. You guys were right. It was pretty cold."

"No problem."

I turned and walked toward my mom. She put her arm around me and led me outside. Once we were in the car, she wasted no time berating me. She hadn't even started it when the yelling began.

"Kathleen, do you realize that you almost gave me a heart attack? I mean, that was such a childish thing to do!"

I couldn't stop myself. It was just like from the one movie with Lindsay Lohan, she kept saying, 'It came up like word vomit.'. That was the perfect way of putting it.

"_Me_?_ I_ was being childish? You're the one who took the cowardly way out and ran. You ran away from your problems! You didn't even look back."

I couldn't believe I had said it. But, since I had, there was no turning back. I just had to apologize and it would be okay. I really didn't feel like starting anything.

"I…I'm sorry. I guess I'm just really upset. You know, things haven't been going my way lately."

My mother took a deep breath and stared out the window. Ever hear of an awkward silence? Well, times that by infinity, and then times that by ten.

She finally spoke up. "You're right. Things haven't been going your way, but, guess what, Kathleen? Things haven't exactly been a picnic for me."

"But, you have the easy part. You don't come home to an empty house every night." I really don't know why I had kept talking. I could've been silent. I could've just kept my fucking mouth shut, but did I? No…of course not. I was never _that _smart.

"Kathleen, these past few days have been hell. Don't even begin to tell me that I have the easy part."

I don't know what it was, but I had finally shut my mouth. I don't know if it was a subconscious reaction that told my brain to shut the hell up, or if I was left truly speechless; if I had finally run out ways to defend Dad.

"I still love your father. Do you know that?" my mother said in a monotone voice. I looked sharply at her and she turned slowly to me. "It's true. I love your father very much."

"Then why the hell did you leave?" I said with little politeness.

She stared out the window again. "Just because two people can love each other doesn't mean they can live together. After awhile, it just became a burden on both of us to run a household together. But, don't twist that around and say that we don't love you, because we do. We love you guys so much. I guess that's why stayed together as long as we did. But, Kathleen, people grow apart, love grows in different ways, and people can fall in any direction. I guess your father and I fell in different directions. We took different paths."

I looked down at my trembling hands. It was like what I had felt on the roof all over again. I was a little girl, stripped of all her misguided opinions and left knowing only the God-awful truth.

"It's not fair," I said simply and quietly. It was the only thing I could think of.

"Ditto. It's not fair at all."

"How come you didn't tell me all this before?"

"Don't you remember? That's how we ended up here. I tried to tell you, but you pushed me away and I guess I wasn't thinking, because I left. You ran away," she said, again in a monotone voice. She turned to the window again.

"I blame this all on me, you know. I blame the fact that Liz cries every night, Dickie doesn't go to basketball anymore and that you ran away all on me. So, don't think that I'm thinking this is all your father's fault and I'm just a victim. You're right, Kathleen. I took the cowardly way out, but I can't change it. I wish to God I could and that I could've done this a better way, but I can't."

Her words shocked me. Just moments ago, my father was blaming virtually the same thing on himself, but there my mom was, soaking up all the guilt. Love was so confusing, but realizing that your heart was _not_ in the love anymore was even more so.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said. It was the hardest thing I had ever had to say and probably would remain in the number one spot for quite awhile.

"For what? I was the one who "screwed up your life" as you so eloquently put it," she said.

"For yelling at you. For not giving a fair say. For being rude. For hating you. I guess the list could go further, but do you want me to continue?"

She let out a single, soft laugh. "You sound like your father. But, no, you don't have to continue."

"You're coming to my soccer game tomorrow, right?"

"Only if you want me to be there."

"Yeah, I'd love that. You do realize that Dad's coming, right?"

"He's your father, Kathleen. No conflict between us is going to stop that. I don't expect him not to show up because I am."

I nodded. I just wanted to go to sleep – it was probably midnight by now. "I'm tired, Mom. I have to be at the fields by four tomorrow and I had intentions of sleeping until lunch. Know of any good places that can offer me a bed?" I said smirking.

"Only if you answer me a question."

"Shoot."

"In all my years of being your mother, one thing has always been clear to me. You have always been just like your father and been as stubborn as a mule. If you change your mind, it happens over a span of a least three days. What made you come around so quickly this time?"

"Daddy," I said simply. "And…well…you."

She nodded and started the car, letting it warm up before driving.

"I love you, Mom. I couldn't hate you if I didn't love you."

"I love you, too, Kathleen."

My mom took her foot off the break and made her way to my grandparents' house. It wasn't too long of a journey, but time can seem lost when you get lost in thoughts and in conversations. I was wrong earlier. It wasn't midnight. Three AM was more like it.

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A/N – well, here it is. The long-awaited sequel. Okay, maybe not too long. I decided to go with another post instead of a second chapter. Hope you don't mind. Anyway, let me know if you want me to continue this with what happens at the soccer game. I can conjure up some ideas for that if you want. Just leave me your thoughts in a review…please?? Until next post, adios! -Jessica

Oh yeah, thanks to everyone who reviewed _Setting My Sights_ and gave me the encouragement to continue with a sequel (which was everyone). These are all the people that reviewed as of 7:51 Monday night. If you reviewed the story, but after this actually viewable on the site, you'll get your shoutout in another one of my fics: Wynter Nytes, CKS24, svufan, pyrorocker12, ScribbleDream, matt, detective-sweetheart, Emsta, scrawler SetYourMindFree, FaithHopeLove, Dakkie, touchstone, lexi, Niki, Caillean – Thanks for everything. So, go ahead, review.


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